I just got done teaching Swift in WLIT II, which is one of my Summer II classes this summer (World Literature from 1650 to the Present in Five Weeks! Yowza!). We read the bit of Gulliver where he visits the horses, and A Modest Proposal, always a joy. Getting students to understand satire, an Irish/English satire, when they don't know much about history, American politics, or their own economic situation (they all think the poor are poor because they just don't work hard enough, by golly), is enough to make me want to retire to my back stoop with my bottle of black strap rum, as I would if it weren't 106 out there most afternoons.
And if I weren't too broke to buy rum these days anyway. Which is really sad.
Then I read about these guys.
Who think America's most pressing concern is abortion and gun control. My ear. My neck. My back teeth! Here in Pork Smith, we're running out of gas money by the second week in every month, and you're carping on about gun control and whether it's the 21st or the 22nd month that defines viability? Jeebus Jumping Christ.
So: here's my new idea. Swift thought we should eat the poor. I think we should eat the rich. A nice brick-oven BBQ. We can start with Rich Rethuglicans. I know they'll be bitter and tough and nasty. But -- evolution in action! What do you say? (/satire, obviously.)